


when you’re near me (darling can’t you hear me)

by ferryboatsandbowie



Series: ghost [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Betrayal, F/F, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 15:40:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4354664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferryboatsandbowie/pseuds/ferryboatsandbowie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ve been with her for as long as she can remember. Now she has no one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when you’re near me (darling can’t you hear me)

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been meaning to write this for a while now and my muse is finally understanding the concept of open door philosophy.
> 
> Title is from SOS by ABBA.

They’ve been with her for as long as she can remember. _Stay low_ across her left wrist. _Stay with me_ over her right…

Now she has no one.

She hears their voices when the lights are out and all the other agents are fast asleep.

“ _Stay low_...”

She tosses.

“ _You’re beautiful_...”

She turns.

“ _I’m always gonna love you_.”

She’s already awake. There’s no use in putting off the inevitable.

Jemma curls in on herself, aching from her stomach to her thighs. Her eyes flit from the sheets to the neon numbers as they blink from one hour to the next. The water bottle at her side has been cold for some time as she lays in a bed far too large for her tiny frame. Both grievances battle for dominance, begging for her to stay.

The clock reads five twenty... He’ll be awake soon. It’s time she got up, too.

Her legs are burning when she kicks them out from under the covers. She can’t think about it, not with so much to do. The brain doesn’t discriminate between physical and emotional pain. She knows it’s all in her head.

But it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Not when everything _hurts_.

Melinda’s still on a mission. She’s still alone. Grant is still a traitor. She’s still picking up after the fragments he left behind.

She’s still bleeding.

The untimely arrival of her period only drives the evidence further into view. Life moves on and so should she.

The Playground is all but silent as she sets about her morning ritual of tea at the monitor. She just watches him, waiting, never knowing how long it’s been. Sometimes she stays for thirty minutes… Others, an hour or two. On the worst of days she loses track completely. Jemma needs to see what he is now so that she might separate him from what they had.

His hair. His scars. His eyes.

What she wants is a cover. A ghost. This is Ward. This is the man who tried to kill her.

He’s only ever succeeded in her dreams, their words lingering on his tongue as he sucks the marrow from her soul. Jemma strokes them absently, fingers tracing over scars of her own.

_Stay with me_...

She wanted them gone. She wanted him dead under her nails… But she failed, so they remain. The man she loves never existed. Melinda is her only truth.

Gripping at her words, it’s a poor substitute for the real thing. She misses her desperately. She’d _miss_ her desperately. By the time she came home, Jemma would be long gone. They were two ships passing in the night... Her first. Her only.

_Stay low_.

She doesn’t react when Director Coulson takes a seat beside her, coffee in hand. Her eyes barely leave the screen.

“Late night?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “I managed to sleep for three hours.”

Coulson takes a sip from the mug, noting her progress. Perhaps he even comments on it. She’s too preoccupied by Ward’s morning exercises to notice or care. His movements mesmerize her as she searches for the tiniest deviation to his regimen... Any sign he might know what she’s up to.

“Simmons.”

Jemma doesn’t have to listen to understand. She’s well aware what’s been said.

“Yes.” She follows the sound of his voice, remembering her courtesies. “I know.”

“You wanna go down there?”

“Go down there...” She frowns, too exhausted to come off as angry as she felt. “Isn’t it bad enough that Melinda is away?”

His expression is blank as he raises his hands in apology. “My mistake.”

“Am I to go now?”

“If there’s nothing else?”

“There’s nothing.”

He nods. “Everything’s checked out. All you have to do is show up.”

She rises, leaving behind her empty cup. “Sir.”

“He had all of us fooled, you know. Don’t go blaming yourself just because he’s your soulmate.”

His words halt her steps but she doesn’t give in to them… If she wavers, she’ll die.


End file.
